


shaking & waiting for something more

by peraltiaghoe



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Coffee, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Get Together, I hate myself, Peraltiago, Pre-Relationship, everybody else's perspectives wow, i'm not avoiding other works i swear, maybe angst we'll see tbh, no jake or amy perspective until the verrrry end, no smut planned but it's a possibility, this is gonna be complicated as a writer, y'all know i basically only write from inside their heads so this is new territory for all of us, you guys know me c'mon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24361246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peraltiaghoe/pseuds/peraltiaghoe
Summary: a coffee shop // college au thing going on here.jake and amy are customers at eastside espresso, a local coffee shop in a college town.their love story through everyone else's eyes.¨̮work title (and coffee shop name) from all time low's coffeeshop soundtrack
Relationships: Jake Peralta & Amy Santiago, Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago
Comments: 13
Kudos: 47





	shaking & waiting for something more

**Author's Note:**

> not me starting a new multi-chap before finishing depth like i SWORE i wouldn't do,,,,,,,
> 
> NOT ME.
> 
> chapter title from sylvan esso's coffee.

_Ding._

The jingling of the bell at the entryway caught his attention. Working at one of the busiest small coffee shops in Brooklyn didn’t provide many days like this one. He’d only heard that bell chime a handful of times, and his eight hour shift was almost over. He couldn’t be certain, but based on the look in Rosa’s eyes, he hypothesized that she _might_ stab him if he uttered any phrase even resembling _you think the world’s ending out there? Where are all the customers?_

To be fair, he had mentioned it approximately every twenty minutes. They’d completed all of their cleaning and upkeep tasks within the first hour, so there hadn’t been much to do. Charles was practically ready to attack every customer who did step in the door, thrilled to finally have somebody to speak to. He knew that his overbearing excitement probably shortened the stay of some customers, but he couldn’t help it. Being behind the counter with Rosa all day, cloaked in the thick silence that she thrived in—it was _killing him_. The overhead radios streamed soothing classical music, and he knew from experience that switching the station for show tunes would make both Rosa _and_ the owners (if they happened to drop by unexpectedly) mad. He was used to people watching, used to making small talk with everyone he saw, but today he hadn’t seen practically anybody, and he just simply was not built to be alone like that. 

So when he heard the bell ring, Charles was already ready to pounce at the mere possibility of a new friend, but then when he _saw the guy?_

He was speechless.

This was easily the coolest man he had ever seen. He walked in, and Charles immediately felt like he was on the set of a movie or something. He had on a leather jacket that looked like it couldn’t possibly have been warm enough for January in Brooklyn. Underneath, the edge of a navy zip-up hoodie peeked out overtop of a blue plaid shirt. He had on sunglasses, gold frames with really dark lenses—the kind that made him look like the cop in an action movie. He pulled the glasses off with a flourish, tucking one of the arms into the breast pocket on his jacket. 

_God, he was cool._

Rosa rolled her eyes as Charles rushed to the counter. She probably didn’t want to take care of the customer anyway, but it’s always hard to tell with her. If anybody was going to be talking to this cool guy, it was going to be him. 

“Hi!” Charles squeaked. He cleared his throat. He didn’t want to be overbearing with this one. They had a lot of regulars at the shop, but he’d never seen this guy before. He wanted him to want to come back. “Welcome to Eastside Espresso!” 

“Thanks!” The man smiled at him, and Charles just about openly swooned. “Has this place been here? I’ve never noticed it before.” 

_He_ was starting the conversations. Charles was practically vibrating. What are the chances that the coolest guy who’s walked into this place probably _ever_ did so on the slowest day in the history of the place, _and_ he’s talkative? 

“Oh, yeah, we’ve been here forever.” Charles nodded, gesturing around. “Well, not forever. It’s a small business, I think they’ve been here ten years? Rosa?”

“Eleven,” Rosa corrected. She was sitting in the corner of the shop with her feet up on the table. The man glanced over at her with wary eyes, focusing in on the pocket knife that she was openly sharpening in the middle of their dining area. He seemed to focus on her apron for a moment. 

He nodded, his eyes narrowing at Charles as if he were trying to communicate something. “Right. Cool knife.” She ignored him. He raised his eyebrows, his eyes flicking between Rosa and Charles’s face inquisitively. 

“Oh, that’s just Rosa,” Charles informed him. He shrugged. “She wants everyone to be afraid of her, but really she’s just—”

“Finish that sentence, Boyle,” she hissed from across the room. “I dare you.” 

The man raised his eyebrows. “Ooookay… Well for the record, I _am_ afraid of you.”

Charles laughed, and the man smiled wide at his laughter. God, he loved this guy. He was internally scouring his _Boyle’s List of Definite Friendship Starters_ for the next conversation starter, but he suddenly realized that perhaps he should tone it down just a little. He didn’t want to scare this one off. “So what can I get you?” 

“Uh…” The man looked up at the menu behind Charles. He absentmindedly fiddled with the chain around his neck, whatever was hanging from it tucked into the front of his shirt out of sight. “What do you recommend?” 

Charles began excitedly, “I’ve actually been working on a new drink that I think you’ll love. It’s a chile cacao frappuccino with a spicy honey whipped topping. I think you’ll—”

“Stop recommending weird shit to customers, Boyle.” 

Charles shot a glare toward Rosa, then immediately backed off and held his palms up toward her in a gesture of apology as she pointed the knife in his direction. He looked back at cool guy, who was glancing back at Rosa with raised eyebrows. “She won’t really stab me.” They both glanced back over at her. “Probably.” 

“Would you like to find out?” 

“No. I would not.” Charles smiled nervously toward the man again.

“Actually, I’ll just have…” He trailed off for a moment, clearly glancing between two options on the board. “That double chocolate frappuccino with extra whipped cream.” He smiled. “You sold me on the frappuccino idea, but the spicy honey whip is probably more of a second visit kind of order.” 

Charles laughed. “Oh, of course!” _He was planning on coming back._ “Good choice. Can I get a name for the order?” 

“Yeah, McClane.” 

“Ah, like Shirley.”

“What?” 

Charles tilted his head, hesitating where he’d already written the M. “Shirley MacLaine? Famed film, television, and theatre actress, singer, dancer, activist, _and_ author?”

McClane nodded slowly. “Oh. No, as in John.” He perked up when Charles smiled with understanding. “Die Hard.” 

“Great movie.” Charles grinned, turning to get started on the drink. 

“The _best.”_ McClane agreed. It made sense that such a cool guy would have such a cool name. He wouldn’t have expected anything less. 

“So, you from the area? You said you’ve never seen us before.” 

“Oh, no, not originally. I mean, I’m from New York, yeah, but a little further upstate. I go to NYU.”

“Oh, cool, so do I! And Rosa too!” 

“Oh wow, what are the chances?” McClane averted his eyes when Rosa glared over at them, but Charles just waved her off. 

“You a freshman?” 

“Oh, no.” This man smiled more than probably anyone Charles had ever met, which is saying a lot considering how much the men in the Boyle family smiled. “I’m a transfer student. Went community the first two years. Ya’know, save money and all that.” 

“Oh, so you’re like twenty?” 

He seemed to shift his weight a bit at that. “Uh, no, actually. Twenty-two.” Charles watched curiously as he shoved a hand in his jacket pocket. “Took a gap year, spent some time on the west coast with a friend…” He shrugged. 

“Oh. I’m twenty-five. Welcome to the area, McClane.” 

He perked up again. He leaned on the counter, drumming his hands there. “Thanks, Charles.”

He had never actually mentioned his name. He was wearing a nametag, he knew, but most customers didn’t even take the time to pay attention to his name, much less actually use it in conversation. 

He was almost finished with his drink when the bell went off again. They both turned to look at the sound. A woman walked in, a polite smile already aimed at Charles. Her hair was dark, pulled back into a smooth ponytail. He recognized the logo on the t-shirt peeking out of her jacket, some Polish-American restaurant down the street about a block or so. _Jana’s_. It was tucked neatly into her jeans, and Charles noted her black, non-slip shoes. She worked at the restaurant.

“Hey, I got it Ro-ro.” He shouted toward Rosa, shooting McClane a knowing grin when Rosa looked like she really might stab him. He figured he was safe with two witnesses. “I’ll be with you in just a second,” he greeted the newcomer. 

“No problem,” she replied with a smile. Her eyes strayed to McClane for a moment, looking him over quickly before averting her eyes and focusing on the floor in front of her. 

Charles raised his eyebrows at McClane, who was stealing sneaky glances at her. His eyes never lingered on her for too long, but he was definitely distracted by her. 

“So what are you studying?” Charles continued the conversation from before she walked in.

“Uh,” McClane glanced over at her again, but when she was still looking somewhere decidedly not at him, he focused back on Charles. “Criminology, with a double minor in forensic psychology and criminal justice.” 

“That’s crazy, I’m actually a criminal justice major. I don’t know what I’m gonna do with it yet. I thought about looking into law school.” 

McClane audibly gagged. “Don’t be a lawyer, gross. Those are the people who get criminals off without punishment.” 

The woman at the other end of the counter scoffed before Charles could set the record straight—he would _never_ do something like that. 

McClane turned to look at her. Charles watched with bated breath. 

“I’m sorry, you don’t agree?” 

She turned to look at him, her eyebrows furrowed decisively. “I mean, no, I don’t really agree.” 

“Cool. Cool, cool, cool. Are you, like, in law school?” 

She scoffed again. “No. I would never be a lawyer.” She crossed her arms, then shrugged a shoulder. “I just think it’s worth noting that there are different types of lawyers. You’re talking about defense lawyers, but there are lawyers for all sorts of different things, _including_ prosecutors,” she paused for a moment, “which would be the people responsible for, as you said,” she held up her fingers to make air quotes, “‘making sure criminals get their punishment.’ Which by the way _isn’t_ supposed to be the purpose of the criminal justice system. You know, as someone who’s studying that system, you should probably know that the system isn’t meant to _punish,_ it’s meant to reform.” 

Both Charles and McClane blinked at her. Charles set his drink in front of him, then made his way back toward the register to begin taking her order. McClane picked up his drink and took a few steps closer to her. Charles hesitated by the register, watching as the two of them stared at each other, seemingly sizing each other up. 

“Oh, definitely,” he agreed, leaning on the counter and looking just— _so_ cool. “But assuming he’s staying in New York, criminal defense attorneys on average make more than prosecutors, so the obvious choice would be to go the defense route. And while the criminal justice system _should_ be to reform, that’s not currently how it’s being utilized.” He shrugged, his smile looking a bit smug. “And while I plan to be a part of the reason we move more toward a system of reform, I firmly stand by the opinion that it’s better for a murderer to be punished than to be walking free because of the work that defense attorneys do.”

He straightened back up, offering his hand for her to shake. “Jake Peralta.” 

She looked at him, then decisively turned away from him and toward the register. “Hi. I’d like a medium iced coffee, two creams, two sugars, and one shot of espresso, please.” She didn’t wait for Charles to say her total, instead swiping her card on the card reader as soon as the total came up.

“It would take more than a little extra money for me to get people off, anyways,” Charles finally set the record straight. He didn’t want McClane—or… Jake? He didn’t want _Jake_ to think he was going to be a _defense attorney._

Both Amy and Jake made faces at him, but neither of them said anything. 

“Coming right up,” Charles tore his eyes away from Jake’s face, a sort of playful smirk on his lips again and aimed at the back of her head. “Can I get a name for the order?” 

She hesitated for a moment. “Amy.” 

He turned to get started on her drink. It was a pretty quick order to make, but he still made sure to steal glances at the two of them behind his back at every opportunity. Jake lingered by the counter, the smirk still widely visible on his face, but he wasn’t looking at her anymore. She stayed in her place, facing the counter and looking determined, though he couldn’t quite place what she was determined about. 

“And here you are.” Charles set the drink down in front of her with a smile. “A bit late for a shot of espresso.”

“Late night of studying planned,” she replied, that polite tone back, though her grin was all warmth until Jake began talking just to her left. 

“A late night of studying on a _Friday?”_ He scoffed. “No wonder you’re so grumpy.” 

She laughed a sort of disbelieving laugh as she turned to face him. “I’m not grumpy.” 

Jake shrugged a shoulder, somehow still smirking even as he took a long sip of his drink. She made a face at him. 

“Is that even coffee? It’s basically a chocolate milkshake.” 

Jake looked down at his drink, then looked back over at Charles. “Is this a chocolate milkshake, Charles?” 

“It technically _does_ have coffee in it.” 

“Either way,” she continued, her shoulder brushing past Jake’s as she walked past him, “some of us actually care about school and our grades, so yeah, I have a long night of studying planned.” 

“I bet you’re fun at parties.” His voice wasn’t teasing as much as it was that of a general observation. 

She rolled her eyes, then turned away. “Have a good night, Charles.” 

“Wait, Amy!” Jake suddenly shouted toward her as she was pushing the door open. He bent down and picked something up off the ground, then turned back toward her where she was lingering by the door, waiting to see what he wanted. “You dropped this.” 

She walked back inside, meeting him a few steps into the lobby. He handed her debit card back to her, their fingers brushing together as they exchanged the card. He shoved his hand into his pocket quickly as she shuffled with her purse to get the card into her wallet. 

When she got her wallet safely zipped back into her purse, she sighed. She extended her hand toward him. He raised his eyebrows as he accepted the handshake. 

“Amy Santiago,” she announced. He hummed an acknowledgement, smiling at her. “Thank you—” She paused abruptly, narrowing her eyes as she looked at his cup. “Thanks, _McClane.”_

He stammered. “It’s not—”

“A Die Hard reference? From a criminology major? Mhm.” Now she was the one wearing a smirk, while Jake’s face was exactly the shade of the tomato cream sauce at Charles’s favorite pasta restaurant. 

“It’s the best cop movie,” he shrugged again, trying to play it off.

She shrugged back. “I like the second one.”

And for one quick second, Charles watched as they both just smiled at one another. 

“Have a good night, Jake.” 

“Yeah. See you around.” 

“Maybe.” 

And she walked out the door. 

Jake turned back around to face Charles, his eyebrows raised. He let out a long sigh, shaking his head and scratching the back of his neck, relief evident on his face. “I mean, that totally could’ve gone worse, right?” 

“You were great, Jake. Or should I call you McClane?” 

Jake’s smile faltered slightly at that, undoubtedly picturing Amy’s smug face when she caught the name on his cup, but then his smile was back. “Jake is good.”

Jake looked out the door for a minute, then glanced at the big clock on the wall. “Oh, god, sorry, it’s actually kind of late, huh? I’ll see you around, Charles.” He paused, as if he had just remembered something. “Oh, bye, Rosa.” 

“Don’t talk to me.” 

“Right.” Jake grinned at Charles, then offered a wave before he walked out into the night. 

Charles grinned after him for a moment, quickly moving to wipe down the frappuccino machine while Rosa locked the door. “Did you hear that, Rosa?” 

Rosa laughed. “What, that girl making him look dumb? Yeah, it was hilarious.” 

_“No.”_ Charles rolled his eyes. “Did you hear the wedding bells?” 

“Ugh, you’re the worst,” she murmured. “Count out the register so we can go.” 

But it didn’t matter. He heard them. Jake and Amy were gonna be something one day. 

He just knew it.

**Author's Note:**

> i have lots of fun ideas planned for this one. excited to see what you think!! ¨̮ 
> 
> also i'm trying to do all titles from songs about/including coffee either in the lyrics or the title so if you guys have any songs that fit that and wanna send them my way i'd appreciate it! hoping i can stick to this theme but not sure i'll be able to. ¨̮


End file.
